


troubled waters

by Readasaurus



Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Gets Therapy, Bruce Wayne Goes To Therapy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Don't Repost My Works, Drowning, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mind the Tags, Not important to the plot, Romani Dick Grayson, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Unbeta'd, and after this dick will too, bc therapy is Useful and damn if that man doesn't need it, but like, fuck yeah, ish, it's important to me, this is not a happy fic guys, we die like Jason Todd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26801398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readasaurus/pseuds/Readasaurus
Summary: Dick is sitting by the pier in the rain, trying to convince himself that he's useful.Dick knows he should really know better than to lie to himself.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Past Catalina Flores/Dick Grayson - Relationship, Past Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne - Relationship, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Whumptober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955071
Comments: 17
Kudos: 302





	1. tried to scream (but my head was underwater)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "before you go" by lewis capaldi, chapter title from "everything i wanted" by billie eilish

_10, 9, 8…_

Dick sat at the edge of the pier, staring down at the dirty water in the Bludhaven Bay. He kicked his feet absently as he contemplated. He struggled to breathe. His vision was blurry, his head spun. He was so tired.

He tried to take a deep breath, hot tears burning his face. His stomach churned and his chest shuddered. A new round of tears ran down his face. He dropped his shoulders from the tense, ready-to-bolt position they’d been stuck in, leaning over to drag his fingers over the polluted surface of the water.

He noted, somewhat clinically, that his hand was trembling. So was his other one, as a matter of fact. The hands that had failed him, the hands that had stayed still and let Catalina- he viciously cut that thought down. A wave of revulsion hit him like a train. He had stood by and killed a man. Bruce would hate him if he knew, maybe even ban him from Gotham, and Dick wouldn’t blame him.

He hated himself, too.

_7, 6, 5…_

He slammed the edge of his hand down on the end of the pier once, then twice, then three times until his hand screamed and the pier was red with his blood. How could Bruce love someone so broken? How could Jason, Tim, Damian?

They deserved better. They deserved to stop being hurt by his massive fuck-ups. They deserved everything, none of which he could give them. _God_ , he was so tired.

Jason going at Bruce, Bruce absolutely failing to communicate with him, Damian hating Tim, and Tim sniping right back, all of them depending on him to keep the peace. And he was so tired. It wasn’t his _fucking_ job to do that for them, they should be able to do that themselves, or better yet, sit down and talk it out like rational human beings. They wouldn’t survive without him-

He exhaled shakily, a sense of calm settling over him like a weighted blanket. They’d be fine without him, he really needed to stop trying to convince himself that he was needed. The first Robin, replaced four times over. The only thing he was needed for was comic relief, and even then, he wasn’t that good at it.

He lifted his hand to his face and inspected the wound, speckled with splinters. He deserved this. He was dirty, as dirty as the water. He ruined everything he touched; he didn’t miss how Tim flinched around him, how Damian avoided his touch, how Jason attacked him if Dick even thought of touching him, how Bruce’s sparse physical contact with him became even rarer over time. He was dirty; he didn’t want to ruin them, too.

_4, 3, 2…_

Dick flipped over onto his stomach, hands tracing nonsense patterns on the oily surface of the water. He stared into its inky depths, knowing that at this part of the pier, the water went more than deep enough to, well. He smiled softly to himself. Dick wouldn’t be bothering them anymore.

Thunder shook the air, and rain began pounding down. Dick looked up, the rain washing away his tears. It would be over soon. It might even be pleasant. He inched closer to the edge, soaking wet.

He was nothing but a burden on them, a dirty, filthy Romani orphan that Bruce only took in because of his misguided sense of guilt, a simpering voice told him. He took another gasping little breath, a broken laugh escaping his lips. The original failure, the golden boy tarnished beyond all repair. That was his legacy, that was what everyone saw in him, and damn if it didn’t burn. The water grew more tumultuous, as if following his thoughts.

The rain came down harder, pelting his body like miniature bullets, twice as small but twice as sharp. The last of his resistance seeped away with the rain, and he stood, turning his back on the water.

_1_

He fell backwards into the water, the waves crashing above him. He sank peacefully downwards, and the world faded to black.

* * *

_1, 2, 3…_

“Has anyone seen Dick?” Jason asked the kitchen. “I need his help with a case.”

“Why?” Tim asked, poring over something or other on his WE laptop, a mug of coffee next to him. “Can’t you just, y’know, solve it yourself?”

“Shut it, _Replacement._ I can so solve it myself, his help’d just save me days of legwork.”

“I haven’t seen him recently,” Damian interjected, sitting up from his perch on one of the kitchen stools. “I last saw him last week, when he picked me up from school when Pennyworth was occupied attending to Drake; I pity him, Drake is such a dullard that it’s agonising to be around him.”

“Oh, do shut up, Damian, I’m doing something,” Tim snapped. “I haven’t seen Dick, either, not recently. He needed my help last month for a case, and that’s the only contact I’ve had with him. He hasn’t been answering my calls, or texting me back.”

Jason’s brows furrowed. This wasn’t normal. Goldie? Not answering his phone? Or at least texting them back? 

“I’m gonna go check on him. Anyone wanna come with?”

“I’m coming,” Damian announced stiffly. 

“Me too,” Tim added. 

“Oh, fuck off.” Jason glowered at Tim. “My motorcycle can only seat two, anyways.”

Tim clenched his jaw, visibly angry. “Fine, I’ll ride alone.”

“Good, you fucking do you.”

Tim left in a huff, and Jason sighed. “Come on, Dami.” 

Damian stood primly, brushing off his clothes. “Let’s go.”

* * *

When Jason pulled up, Tim's bike was parked in the lot. Jason dismounted and started walking, Damian a half-step behind him. Jason took the stairs up to Dick's apartment two at a time. He reached the floor, arriving at the apartment to Tim unlocking the front door.

Tim wordlessly held the door open, then stepped through after Jason and Damian had entered. Jason looked around, not seeing any signs of a struggle. His eyes narrowed. 

“Dick?” he called, moving around the apartment. Tim and Damian echoed his calls, none of them receiving an answer. 

The three of them looked at each other, unspoken communication passing through their eyes. Jason took the bedroom, drawing his gun. He slammed the door open, scanning for targets. It was empty. The bathroom was, too. He opened Dick’s closet, pressing his thumb against the scanner hidden on the doorframe. It dinged, and the compartment concealing Dick’s Nightwing outfit opened. It was still in there, and Dick wouldn’t wear a spare if the original was fully functional.

“Grayson’s not in his office,” Damian reported, presumably from the office.

“Or in the kitchen,” Tim added.

So the apartment was empty. Jason tried not to feel worried. Dick was probably just getting groceries or something. He walked over to the fridge and opened it. It was more-or-less full. Full for Dick Grayson’s standards, at least.

“Budge over,” Jason heard Tim mutter to Damian, squeezing past Damian into Dick’s office.

Dick wasn’t at home, he wasn’t at the grocery store, he wasn’t at work, he wasn’t on patrol. The first stirrings of fear in his chest rose in Jason’s chest.

“Guys, I think you need to come here.” Tim’s voice came from the office, atypically shaky. “ _Now_.” Jason rushed into the office, Damian two steps ahead. Tim held out a piece of paper, his hand shaking. “Read this.” Damian snatched it from Tim’s hand before Jason could take it.

“Dear all,” Damian read out. “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this anymore. You guys deserve better. I’m sorry. It’s-" Damian's voice broke, but he continued. "It's not your fault, so don’t blame yourselves. Don’t come looking for me. I need you to be there for each other, okay? I promise it’ll get better. I’m sorry. Dick.”

_4, 5, 6…_

The breath whooshed out Jason as if he’d been punched in the solar plexus. He fished his phone out of his pocket, dialing Bruce. Please answer, please answer, Jason thought frantically.

After two rings, Bruce picked up. “Jason?”

“Bruce, thank god,” Jason nearly slumped with relief.

“Jason, is- is something wrong?” That was their code for ‘do you need backup?'

“Have you seen Dick?” he asked in lieu of answering.

“No, why? What’s wrong?” Jason could hear Bruce gathering his things on the other side of the line.

“I- we found a note. A suicide note.” At that, Jason could swear Bruce stopped breathing.

“I’m on my way, do you think he’ll need anything else?” More code. Jason ignored the shaking of Bruce’s voice.

“Yeah, bring a blanket.” Translation: come as Batman. “On second thought, bring plenty.”

* * *

Red Hood patrolled Bludhaven. He’d taken the Central Business District, and Batman and Robin were searching the warehouse district. Red Robin was in Avalon Heights. So far, none of them had found him.

There hadn’t been any chatter from the criminal underworld, the only thing of note being that Tarantula, aka Catalina Flores, had been released from prison on parole a few days ago. Figuring out Nightwing’s identity, taking him against his will, and then faking a suicide note would have created buzz. They would have had at least _some_ warning, even if they could only see it in hindsight. But they had checked; Bruce, Barbara, even Tim. They had found nothing.

Which meant that the note was real. Jason’s throat seized. Dick, the literal sunshine of the family, the one that never so much as frowned, had… _god_. 

He pressed a hand to his comm roughly. “He’s not here.”

“He’s not here, either,” Batman growled.

“Or here,” Red Robin reported.

“Rendezvous at St. Bernadine’s,” Batman ordered. His modulator, though surely trying its best, was unable to mask his worry.

“Got it,” Jason answered. He heard Tim do the same.

He slid down the fire escape and straddled his bike. He revved the engine, shooting off towards the church. The wind rushed through his hair and he focused on the thrum of the engine under his hands, purposely blocking out any thoughts of Dick. He couldn’t help Dick if he was having a mental breakdown, too.

_7, 8, 9…_

Before he knew it, he’d arrived at the church. He dismounted, grappling up to the roof. Batman and Robin were already there, and Jason could see Red Robin coming down the road on the R-cycle.

“I found him.” Oracle’s voice crackled through the comms. “He’s sitting at the pier in the Caernaervon section,” she said. “I-I think you guys need to hurry. He’s about to do something very stupid.”

They exchanged a glance. Red Robin was already turning. Jason swung back down, landing on his bike. He disengaged the grapple gun as he started the engine. He took off, hearing the low rumble of the Batmobile behind him.

Thunder shook the air, and rain began pounding down. Jason drove faster, pressing his body down onto the bike. Damn it all, Dick was his brother. He wasn’t allowed to do this, just fucking end it all without even telling them anything was _wrong_. 

It was times like this that Jason missed his domino; at least then, he could blame the wetness of his face on the rain.

He pulled up to the long pier, and his eyes locked on Dick’s sodden form, lying on the ground 400 meters away. Tim silently stopped next to him. Dick stood and turned from the water, and Jason held his breath, hoping against hope that DIck had changed his mind. Then Dick spread his arms, and fell into the water.

Jason was running before Dick even hit the water. Dick sunk under, a small smile on his face, and Jason was still so far. Tim was hot at his heels, and Bruce and Damian right behind them. As soon as he got to where Dick had gone under he dove in, bracing against the cold. He nearly got the breath knocked out of him when the cold sunk into his jacket. He heard two other splashes around him, then a third a second later. The water was dark and murky and impossible to see in.

He pushed a button on his utility belt, and lights flashed to life on his helmet. The light pierced through the darkness, and Jason could see Dick sinking. He swam faster, trying to reach him. Jason slid his arms under Dick’s limp form. He tried to lift him, but only ended up sinking with him.

His jacket, of course! Jason wanted to smack himself. He reached into Dick’s pocket and pulled out a handful of large rocks. Fuck. He repeated the motion in Dick’s other pockets, dumping out handfuls of rocks onto the seabed. Bruce had reached them by then, Tim and Damian hovering above. Bruce helped him lift Dick upwards, kicking his legs quickly. Jason mimicked his movement, and they were moving upwards.

Tim and Damian swam with them, their lithe forms flickering in and out of his sight. Their heads breached the surface, and Jason gasped in a breath. Bruce yanked Dick up, forcing his head into the air. Dick coughed, before starting to breathe. Jason felt a wave of relief crash over him.

Jason and Bruce swam him to the pier. Tim reached over and pulled Dick out of the water with Damian’s help. Jason hoisted himself out of the water and offered a hand to Bruce. Bruce took it, using him to pull himself out of the water. Bruce’s cape was missing, and Bruce gestured at the mostly-dry waterproof cape lying on the ground. Bruce stripped Dick methodically, and Jason stepped over to help. The cold clothes would only do him more harm. 

As more of Dick’s skin was revealed, Jason had to resist the urge to turn away. There were several untreated wounds, some of which were infected, and others of which had been reopened by the abuse Dick’s body had suffered when he dove into the water. Bruises crisscrossed across his body like railroad tracks, a mottled collage of greens, blues, yellows, and purples. 

Bruce swallowed hard, then grabbed his cape and gently wrapped it around the still-unconscious Dick. Jason pulled a few hand-warmers from his utility belt, and put them through the gaps in the cape. Damian and Tim had had the foresight to warm the Batmobile, and Bruce gently set Dick down in the backseat. 

_10_

They had to get him home, get him warm, and get him treated, and then they would need to have a capital-T Talk, Jason thought, the enormity of the situation dropping down on him like a cartoon piano. 

Jason exhaled sharply. _God,_ how had he not noticed this? Jason paused. There was no point thinking like that. His first priority had to be getting Dick stable. After that, he could feel as guilty as he wanted.


	2. the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta da! get some tissues and prepare to c r y

_he was freezing, shivering so hard-_

-a warm hand pressed against his forehead, and a broken, mournful “oh, _chum-,_ ”-

_he was hot, so hot-_

-a blessedly cool cloth wiping across his brow with a pained “my dear boy,“-

_he was sleepy-_

-a warm tenor proclaiming “to thine own self be true,”-

_why was he so cold, goddammit-_

-wet tears soaking into his shirt, wheels clicking as they rolled away-

_hot, hot, hot, was this what hell felt like?_

-a little hand clasped in his, a “don’t you dare die on me, Grayson.“-

_his body felt like pirogo, squishy and-_

-a soft “Dick. We need you, you can’t just _go-_ “-

_hOT HOT-_

-“he’s running a fever, almost 105 deg-”

_he felt floaty; was he an astronaut? wheeeeeeee-_

-“ _fuck_ , he’s seizing-”

_ow ow ow ow ow oW-_

-“I’ve got you, chum, I’ve got you, it’s okay, it’s _okay_ -”

_and finally, finally, he slept._

* * *

The next time Dick woke up, he wasn’t sure why he was. Wasn’t he- didn’t he go to the pier? And do the thing? He opened his eyes blearily, and promptly got stabbed in the eyes with a red-hot pitchfork. 

“Bruce!” a voice called. “Bruce, he’s awake!” 

The lights dimmed, and Dick was finally able to open his eyes all the way. He was immediately faced with five bobbing black-haired heads, each with an identical expression of worry. Dread pooled in his stomach. 

They were probably so disappointed in him- and, fuck, _Bruce_ , he was going to be so angry, and Dick didn’t blame him, because Dick Grayson committing suicide and Nightwing disappearing right afterwards would have been a huge hint to their identities. God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?

“Dick! You’re awake,” Tim chirped. Dick’s dread grew. Tim was never this cheerful unless he was upset. 

There were several slamming noises, and a very loud bang, before Bruce rushed into the Cave in an incorrectly-tied robe, two mismatched socks, and dripping wet hair. 

“Dick,” B murmured, audible even from across the room. Bruce moved towards him slowly, eyes roving over his frame.

Dick braced himself for the incoming confrontation, grimacing. 

“I’m so, so sorry!” _Uh, what?_ Dick thought. His incomprehension must have shown on his face, because Bruce started explaining. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice how stressed you’d been lately. I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t talk to us about it. I-I know I'm not really good at dealing with, ah, _emotions_. But Dinah and I have been talking and I-" Bruce cut off his rambling. Dick hadn't heard him ramble since the early days of Dick living with him, when he was an awkward shmuck who had no idea how to take care of a child. "I- I'm just really, really sorry, chum." Dick blinked, and Bruce half-smiled at him. Jason poked Damian, who huffed. 

“I apologize for not being more emotionally available for you, Grayson,” Damian said stiffly, but his body language was worried, relieved, helpless. 

“Dick, I’m sorry, too. I should have realized that you weren’t feeling all that great,” Tim spoke up, picking at his jacket. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you.”

“Next time, Dick, tell one of us when you start feeling this crap,” Jason said seriously, his eyes haunted. Dick didn’t have to be a genius to recognize that Jason was thinking of Catherine. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too.”

Cass looked up at him. She touched a hand to his chest. “Sad.” Her eyes bore into his. “Us?" she gestured at the family, movements confident. "You can tell.”

And then Dick broke down. He sobbed so hard his body shook with the force of them. 

“Can I touch you?” Bruce asked, and _gods,_ he didn’t deserve this, but he nodded anyway. Bruce pulled him close, running a soothing hand down his back. Someone grabbed his hand. Someone else massaged his scalp. Another someone put their hand on his knee and moved it in little circles. 

“I-It’s just so, so hard,” Dick’s breath hitched. “You guys, you’re, you're always fighting. And then you all come to me and I have to pretend it doesn’t bother me and try to act like a mediator and avoid upsetting either side and it shouldn’t be my goddamn job! You guys should be able to handle your own problems! But you don’t and I don’t say anything because I don't want you guys to _not_ come to me with your problems, because you wouldn't work through any of it otherwise, but you guys _keep_ coming to me and it’s so, so fucking tiring, and it’s my fault because I didn’t say anything.”

Jason winced. “I..." he trailed off. "Sorry, Dick. I didn’t realize it was affecting you like that.”

“Tt. I’m sorry as well,” Damian said. “I shall...try...to keep you out of our domestic disputes.”

“Sorry, Dick. I can’t promise I’ll stop arguing with Jason and Damian, but I’ll try not to when you’re around,” Tim promised.

Dick exhaled sharply. "But that's- that's not it. Catalina, oh _fuck._ Um. How much do you guys know about Blockbuster?”

Jason shrugged, guilt apparent in the tenseness of his shoulders. “Not much.” Most of the others all made noises of assent. 

“I know Officer Grayson showed up at the Bludhaven precinct to confess to his murder, despite not committing it,” Bruce said evenly. 

Dick shuddered. “But Bruce- I _did_ do it.” He choked on a sob. “Blockbuster had figured out my identity, and he blew up my apartment building. So many- so many _innocent people_ were killed because of my fucking mistake. He-” Dick felt a fresh wave of horror wash over him. “He said that he’d kill anyone who had ever known me, even the cashiers I met, people I talked to on the street, anyone I even acknowledged, gods, he burnt down _Haley’s._ ” 

Jason had gone very, very still. “I’m sorry, he did _what?”_

“He--he burnt down Haley’s. And I had gotten evidence on him and then Tarantula and I went to give it to the police, but the guy we went to was corrupt and he destroyed the drive, and I hadn’t made a backup, because I was such an _idiot_ ,” Dick spat, still so very angry at himself. “And then, during my final confrontation with Blockbuster, I knew he wouldn’t stop. He would keep killing everyone I knew, and I,” he inhaled sharply. “I couldn’t let him get to-to you guys. So when Tarantula offered to kill him, I-I stepped aside.”

“ _Fuck,”_ Jason swore, eyes flashing green. “Look at me, Dick.” Dick glanced up. Jason didn’t look angry. “Take it from someone who has actually killed. _That was not your fault._ You had no choice. You’d just gone through a major trauma, several, in fact, and you weren’t even the one that pulled the goddamn trigger.” 

“But I could’ve stopped her! And it wasn’t just there where I didn’t stop her-” Dick cut himself off. 

“...what do you mean ‘it wasn’t just there where I didn’t stop her’?” Tim asked cautiously, a suspicion forming. 

“After, after she killed him, she took me up to the roof, over his dead body and she, she-” Dick was shaking too hard to speak, but the rest of the family _were_ detectives, after all. 

Damian let out an inarticulate screech of rage. “How-how _dare_ that- that _absolute wretch_ rape you!?!” His eyes blazed, and his face contorted in a snarl. 

Bruce could have been switched with a stone decoy and no one would have been the wiser. Bruce had been frozen. He forced his body to relax, instead burying his head in Dick’s hair. He inhaled deeply, jaw clenched.

Dick looked ill. “No, guys, it wasn’t like that-- I didn’t stop her. She didn’t rape me, I could’ve stopped her, but I…I didn’t.”

Tim had a green pallor to match Dick’s. “Dick, _no._ Did you say no?”

“Well, _yes_ , but all I had to do was-”

“Did you want to have sex with her?” Tim pressed ruthlessly.

“ _No,_ but-”

“Did you verbally give your enthusiastic consent to having sex with her?”

“ _No!_ But I didn’t stop her! All I had to do was turn over!” 

“Dick, that was rape,” Jason affirmed. “It doesn’t matter if you didn’t stop her-- you didn’t want it.”

“But-”

“No, brother.” Cass put a finger to his lips. “You did not want it. It is not your fault it happened. You did not deserve it.”

Bruce could tell that they weren’t getting through to him, and he knew that they wouldn’t. Not this way. But perhaps if he...he swallowed hard, committing to his decision.

“Everyone, could you give Dick and I a moment of privacy?” Bruce ‘asked’. It was clearly not a question. Damian opened his mouth to argue, but was quelled with a warning look from Cass. The group moved away, leaving just Bruce and Dick in the main area of the Cave. 

And oh. _Oh._ Of course Bruce wouldn’t want to chastise him in front of his siblings, he’d want to do it alone. Dick should’ve realized. 

Bruce must’ve seen something in his expression, because he spoke then. “I’m not going to punish you, or anything like that. You did nothing wrong. I. I just wanted to speak with you,” Bruce said, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

“Speak with me about what?”

“Do you know how Damian was conceived?” Bruce asked abruptly, avoiding Dick’s gaze.

“Wasn’t it when you went on the ‘business trip’ to oversee that WayneTech merger in India?”

“I lied. Talia had asked to meet with me, she said it concerned her father. I went as Batman, and the WayneTech merger was a convenient cover.” Bruce paused. “We had met at a bar in Rajasthan, near the Pakistani border. We talked, we drank. I trusted her. She gave me a drink. She must’ve drugged it, because the next thing I remember was waking up naked in a hotel room in Ahmedabad, three days later.” Bruce met his gaze steadily, but Dick could see the anxiety in his expression. “So. Was it my fault?”

Dick gritted his teeth, knowing _exactly_ what Bruce was doing. “No.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because- because you weren’t in a position to consent.”

“But I could’ve stopped her,” Bruce reasoned, relentless. “I know the League of Assassins, hell, I _trained_ with them, I should’ve recognized the drug. I shouldn‘t’ve trusted Talia. I should’ve tested the drink. I should’ve fought back, even drugged. There are a million and one things I could’ve done to prevent it, even to stop it, but I didn’t. Is it my fault?”

“No, okay! It wasn’t your fault! But I _was_ in a position to consent. All I had to do was _fucking_ turn around!”

Bruce leaned back and placed his hands on Dick’s shoulders. “Dick, look me in the eyes and tell me that you were in a position to consent. Look me in the eyes and tell me that the reason that you didn’t turn around was because you wanted it, because you consented, and not because you were going into shock, not because you weren’t even aware of your body.”

“Bruce-”

“Tell me.”

“I _can’t_!! I had to have wanted it. I had to have! Because why else would it have happened? Why else would she have done it? She wouldn’t have unless I wanted it! I-I _trusted_ her!”

And Bruce knew they had finally reached the root of the problem. 

“Dick, I know how hard it is to come to terms with the fact that you’ve been raped, that you’ve become a victim, _again,_ even after all your training, even after dedicating your life to preventing other victims. I _understand_ , and I, no, _we_ , all of us, will be with you for as long as it takes for you to get through this. We’ll be with you for however long you need us.”

“I,” Dick wiped away his tears, sniffling a bit. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, but thank you anyway.” Bruce smiled at him, standing. “I’m going to retrieve your siblings. Just…take a moment. If you want to wash your face, or just blow your nose, _use your crutches._ We spent too long stitching you up for you to just go and tear them right back up again,” Bruce added wryly. 

As Bruce left the Cave, Dick took in a soft breath. He was still so tired, but he thought he might be okay. He wasn’t yet, but...he might just get there.

The rest of the family crowded back into the Cave, filling the air with raucous conversation. Dick almost smiled. And his family would be there to catch him if he fell again, just like they did this time. 

There were light footsteps from the stairs, and Alfred came into sight, bearing a tray of mugs. “Hot chocolate, anyone?”

Dick did smile, that time. He _would_ be alright. It was only a matter of time. _And_ , he mused as he looked around at his patchwork family, _it was a matter of support._

Dick sipped from his mug contemplatively. _Yeah_ , he thought, _maybe not yet, but_ _everything was going to be just fine_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jason's line "take it from someone who has killed" kept autocorrecting to "take it from someone who's been killed", and i'm like, siri, _no-_
> 
> ALSO: If you're reading this on any site other than AO3, or have bought/see ads for this content, you are being scammed and my work has been stolen. This work is available for free, without any ads, on AO3. Please, please, _please_ inform me if you've seen this work anywhere other than AO3, and I would be wary of the other site you are reading this work on. (Note: An unedited first chapter happens to be posted on Tumblr, but if you see the second chapter posted there, it has been stolen.)


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